


Unloved

by TheLonelyCritic



Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen, Relationship Talk, Swearing, dealing with heartbreak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25291864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLonelyCritic/pseuds/TheLonelyCritic
Summary: “All relationships flat line,”//Wendy imparts unsolicited analysis on the reality of relationships.
Relationships: Holden Ford/Debbie Mitford, Wendy Carr & Holden Ford
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Unloved

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always intrigued by Wendy and Holden's friendship (if you can even call it that) and sadly season 2 didn't really bother exploring it much.

**I’m unloved.**

**Impossible.**

**Everyone is loved… by someone.**

**Even a dog couldn’t resist.**

**-**

**Tell Mama (Killing Eve): Unloved**

* * *

“Can I help you, Wendy?”

Holden waited for her lost eyes, that had been mindlessly transfixed on the corner of his shirt for the last three minutes, to rise and meet him. It took longer than necessary, the haze still dancing across her face even when she finally spoke.

“You have ketchup on your collar.”

“Oh,” Holden felt the heat of embarrassment rush over him as his focus fell to the blue collar of his shirt and as Wendy had informed, a dollop of red sauce hung from the material. Clumsily, he pulled out a napkin from under his tray and dabbed at the offending blob. But red only seeped further into the cotton and as he carried on trying to correct the error, the problem only grew worse. “Fuck. It’s not coming out.”

“You should have wet the napkin first,” Wendy mused, humour light in her voice as she watched the young man fluster at his increasing blunder. His blue eyes lifted to her grey ones, a grin stretching across his face.

“She smiles,” Holden said as he dropped the napkin on the table, giving up his pursuits and resigning to spending the rest of the day as a stained man. “Or is that more of a smirk?” 

Wendy quickly schooled her face before Holden could come to a definite conclusion, her attention returning to her pathetic excuse of a lunch that had been served at the bureau’s cafeteria. 

He sighed at her withdrawal, “One can never tell with you when most of the faces you make, if not that of an angry, impassioned woman, is that of a stoic woman.”

“I never knew displaying a wide range of emotions was as equally required as my academic analysis.” She lifted up a forkful of seared salmon, pointing it in his direction as she continued, “If I had known, I would have deferred the job offer.”

He chuckled at that, enjoying the dry humour that left her lips. “I must say you’re quite out of your normal today.”

“How so?”

“For one, you're engaging in conversation that surpasses basic pleasantries and work. You’ve left the confines of your much-loved office to have lunch among the masses and most surprisingly, you’ve invited me to be your guest.” He picked up a chip from the bag on his tray and dipped it into the miniature sauce bowl the dinner lady had given him before tossing it in his mouth. “One might assume you were softening me up for some hard questioning.”

She measured him up for a short moment before sighing into her reply, “I guess I’m transparent.”

“No,” he was talking around another couple of fries that had found their way into his mouth, “I’m just that good. Being a professional interrogator and all.”

“It would seem so.”

Having finished off his side, Holden reached for his burger with both hands, appreciating the spots of grease that he saw had formed on the sheet of paper it was placed on once he lifted it. “So what shall it be, Ms Carr?”

She pushed away her tray, her poor attempt at consuming the burnt salmon and canned vegetables clearly being a precursor to what she had intended when she’d stopped at Holden’s desk and asked him to join her for lunch. A hand slipped into the breast pocket of her cream blouse (finding skirts with pockets was a near impossible task) to pull out a single key. She slid it across the dining table towards him.

Holden stared at the key for a few seconds before dropping his burger and sliding the piece of metal the rest of the way, tucking it in his own pocket when it finally reached the end. A silent interval passed in which Holden made a show of returning to his meal with each mammoth bite of his burger whilst Wendy leaned into the back of her chair, examining his faux unbotheredness before finally speaking up.

“She came by about a week ago,” Wendy explained, “and you weren’t in so she asked me to hand it to you. It wasn’t my intention to leave it so long but…”

That was the best of an apology he was going to get out of her. To be frank, Wendy didn’t need to apologise for anything, it wasn’t her fault she’d found herself courier for two heartbroken youths.

“It’s fine.” He’d polished off the last of his lunch. “Thank you, Wendy.” And now there was nothing to distract from the tense atmosphere that wafted between them. Wendy wasn’t going to pry, she wasn’t the type and it wasn’t her style. Instead, when Wendy wanted to know something she’d construct a void within a conversation, eliciting the need for someone to attempt to fill the bottomless depth with meaningful words. And though Holden knew this, he found himself falling prey to her trap nonetheless.

“Debbie left me a few weeks back. Honestly, the whole thing was flat lining,” he mumbled, “...wasn’t heading anywhere important. Just became a prolonged dream that was just itching to wake up to a stark reality. One night, it finally happened.” He’d been scrunching the chip bag in his left hand, forming a tight ball that he now rolled about the table from one palm to another, an endless loop of trash until Wendy’s manicured fingers suddenly stilled the ball in the middle.

He looked up then. She had sincere eyes framing an understanding countenance.

“All relationships flat line,” she whispered softly.

He must have looked puzzled because she grinned despite herself, it now being her turn to toss the paper ball between her hands, her elbows resting on the table. Her gaze locked on the curve of the ball’s movement instead of at him.

“At first couples try to make an effort. When their partner throws a ball, the other catches and throws back. They keep the ball moving and the game going, call it the excitement stage. But even the best players get tired and must rest, so the game eventually ends.” The ball finally stopped in her right hand before she dropped it to the table and left it to roll off the edge and onto the floor. “Two exhausted souls are left to learn how to cope with one another’s bullshit. And maybe another season arrives and they play another game but eventually the couple must retire. Then there’s no more excitement, just exhaustion and each other’s bullshit.”

Wendy sighed, regarding him with a weak expression as if she’d just exhausted herself in providing an unsolicited analysis on the nature of human relationships. This wasn’t exactly table talk. It felt more like Wendy was trying to coach herself through her own heartbreak than she was his - Holden just being a vehicle for her vexations. 

“Sounds like you’ve had your fair share of keys returned to you,” he joked but it fell flat and instead of trying to make it work with a follow up, Holden just left the dead statement on the ground to rot. 

“Keys and rings.” 

He was alert in an instant, “you’re di-”

She pushed at the table, the sound of her chair scraping across the wooden floor interrupting him as he watched her stand up. 

“Some pairs never make it to retirement.”

Wendy picked up her tray and rounded the table, heading for the bins. “I would like to go over yesterday’s tapes later this afternoon if you have the time,” she said, not even bothering to turn around to face him. 

“I’ll stop by in an hour or so,” he confirmed as he watched her go, the sound of her heels idiosyncratic amongst the squeaky soles of leather shoes. Holden didn’t know what it was about Wendy but the idea of her playing lover’s catch with a man seemed just as implausible as she, after so many years, remaining unloved. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope the series end the trend of giving Wendy shitty love interests.


End file.
